


What Should've Been The End

by asmodesgold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmodesgold/pseuds/asmodesgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then there’s a knife, an angel blade, pressed to his throat with Cas on the other end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Should've Been The End

**Author's Note:**

> I totally blame markedbygrace's post http://markedwithgrace.tumblr.com/post/44347362441/8x17-theory-prediction-time for this plot bunny. It would not leave me alone!  
> Also this is unbeta'd so...fair warning.  
> Takes place at the end of Season 8.

“Dean.”

Then there’s a knife, an angel blade, pressed to his throat with Cas on the other end.

“Fuck you,” Dean spat, holding his chin up defiantly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam struggling to get back on his feet.

“Dean Winchester, for crimes committed against Heaven, the Host, and the Lord Our Father, your death has been ordered.”

“Fuck you,” he repeated and then-nothing. Dean blinked, wondering why he’s still attached to body and breathing when Sam still isn’t up on two legs and Cas seemed like that was all he was going to say.

Another moment passed.

Then another.

And still Dean was not dead.

The angel blade was still digging into the skin right above his Adam’s Apple but it isn’t drawing blood. Dean blinked again and took the moment to look down at the angel.

To the untrained eye it would look like Cas was frozen but Dean could see the twitching of muscles in the angel’s face, the jolt of his body that made it look like he was one of those scratched DVDs that played the same two frames over and over again. And then Cas’ right eye began crying blood.

“Dean,” Cas breathed raggedly and it sounded so much like his Cas, the old Cas, that despite the blade at his throat he instinctively reached forward to touch him when Cas gasped and fell backwards, another angel blade sticking out of his abdomen. As Cas crumpled to the ground, hands around the hilt, Dean became aware of Sam panting next to him. His younger brother took a step and Dean knew he was going in to finish the job, to kill Cas as Cas had just been about to do to him. 

Dean’s arm shot out anyways and pulled Sam back, ignoring the confused look that got him.

On the floor before them Cas writhed, his head thrown back and light spilling out from his wound, both hands still grasping the knife. But instead of pulling it out he seemed to be pushing it in deeper.

”I’m afraid I might kill myself” rang through Dean’s head and he lunged forward only this time it was Sam holding him back. He pulled and twisted and verbally begged Sam to let him go as the light increased but his brother merely tugged him to his chest where he could no longer see but could definitely hear the inhuman screams drowning out his own.

The screaming intensified and a white hot heat enveloped the brothers before becoming focused on Dean’s left shoulder where it burned worse than anything he’d felt since Hell. His knees buckled and all his weight fell on Sam as the heat blazed through the rest of his body until it overpowered all his senses.

When he finally came to the bunker was quiet again save for the old record still innocuously playing in the next room.

“Dean?” Sam asked from above.

Not trusting his voice Dean merely nodded and stood shakily on his own, turning back around.

Across the floor in a heap Cas was struggling to raise himself but he only managed to lurch forward onto his knees.

“Dean,” he moaned, crawling forward, the blade still embedded in his belly. “Dean, please.” He stopped at Dean’s feet and grabbed at the fabric of his jeans. “Dean, I’m sorry, that wasn’t me, I’m sorry-“

Bile rose in the back of his throat as he gazed down at the bloody, wide-eyed and desperate angel.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t me, it wasn’t Dean, it wasn’t-“

His chest tightened unbearably and he sank to his knees as well. Cas let go of his pants and instead clung to his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Dean, please believe me-“

“Hey,” Dean said soothingly. “It’s alright buddy, we’ve gotcha.” He reached down to pull out the blade but Cas stopped him by cupping his face in his hands and bringing it up so their gazes could meet.

“No, Dean, you have to listen,” Cas begged.

“Okay Cas, I’ll listen.”

The angel took a deep shuddering breath.

“None of that was true Dean; you and Sam were worth all of that, the two of you are my home and I do not regret a single thing I’ve done with you.”

Dean’s throat felt swollen as he tried to swallow.

“I’ve only ever been happy here with you, Dean, and I love you.”

”Cas,” Dean whispered. “You can’t-“

“I do,” Cas said, leaving no room for argument. “I love you, Dean, and I have since the moment I touched you in Perdition.”

Dean’s face is one of wonder as he brought his own hands up to rest against Cas’ cheeks, his thumbs brushing away dried blood.

From somewhere behind the angel Sam coughed, bringing them back to the present.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean said, and, “this is going to hurt” as he wrapped his fingers around the embedded blade and pulled it out with a sickening squelch and a beam of light. Cas shudders under his hands and it take both him and Sam to pull him into a standing position.

“What happened?” Sam immediately asked. “What happened to Dean?”

“I ripped out part of my grace,” Cas said, turning his head towards Dean. “And it latched onto you. I’m sorry.”

Sorry for what? Dean wanted to ask but Sam cut him off.

“Does this mean he has angelic powers now?”

“It’s possible.”

“Really?” Dean said, grinning, his eyes catching on the still open wound bleeding light. “Lemme try.” He pressed his hand over the gash and concentrated. Cas gasped and he removed his hand to find the skin healed. “Awesome.”

“Try that on me, Dean,” Sam said excitedly, thrusting a bruised wrist at him.

“What, you haven’t had enough touchy-feely crap for one day?” Dean groused but he reached out and a second later the discoloration was gone. “Now get out of my face.”

Sam ignored him and wandered off in the direction of the library, probably to look up ‘humans with angel mojo’ or something. He smiled at the thought and turned to Cas who was looking at Dean with such naked adoration and love that he almost had to look away. 

Almost.

“Hey, have I shown you my room yet?”

“No, Dean, you haven’t.”

“You wanna see it?”

“Of course, Dean, but,” Cas’ eyes drifted off to the side and Dean immediately missed their intense weight. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Dean opened his mouth to let out an indignant ‘of course!’ but then a different, more physical answer presented itself to him and he thought, why the hell not?

So he bent forwards and pressed a light, brief kiss to his angel’s lips. 

Cas blinked up at him in confusion.

“Was that a yes?”

“Hell yes,” Dean said. “And wait till you see this whole place-they’ve got everything down here so, you know,” he shrugged. “You probably wouldn’t ever need to leave for anything again.”

Cas’ smile shone brighter than anything else that evening.


End file.
